The Bells of Notre Dame
by Ranko twin
Summary: "The Hunchback of Notre Dame". Kiku is an orphan who is unlike anyone else in appearance and is confined to the bell tower of Notre Dame for his "own good." His only friend, and guardian, Ivan tells him he is a monster and will never be accepted. But this strange pirate doesn't seem to have a problem with his appearance and helps lead him closer to the truth of his life and Ivan.
1. Chapter 1

**Ranko: So this story idea has been on my mind for a while and I really wanted to do it justice, considering that the Hunchback of Notre Dame is one of my favorite movies! I was inspired to write this after spam watching the video: Heaven's Light/Hellfire that BlueFireTigerLion posted on the youtubes! I would suggest checking it out ; )**

**Disclaimer: Hetalia nor The Hunchback of Notre Dame belong to me. The characters, story, and property belongs to their respected owners/creators. This is a nonprofitable story!**

**Enjoy!**

-/-

In the city of Paris, the toll of the bells are the first thing heard rather than the sight of the morning sun. And no sooner do the shutters and doors open to let in the crisp morning air and the blissful sound coming from their dear Notre Dame.

And like any other morning, the children rush to the town square to see their favorite group perform for them.

A group of small children stand eagerly around a small stage set up daily. Standing on the stage were three men, with their heads hung low and their bodies limp, like dolls waiting to be wound up and to play. Standing in front of the stage were two twin boys in similar positions.

The children giggled in anticipation, some shouting, "Begin! Begin!" but the group did not move from their spots until the final bell tolled and the man in the center raised his head, a smile gracing his lips and his long blonde hair tied back with a blue ribbon.

He looked on at his small crowd and grinned at them and took a step forward on the stage.

"_Morning in Paris, the city awakes, to the bells of Notre Dame,"_ sang the man in the native French tongue. More children that were passing by with their parents or grandparents stopped to stare, even some of the adults growing a bit intrigued.

"_The fisherman fishes, the bakerman bakes, to the bells of Notre Dame." _

The Frenchman made small steps, moving his arms dramatically as his two companions on stage raised their heads as well, the performance running like a well-oiled machine after much practice and many times performing it.

"_To the big bells as loud as the thunder," _the one with white hair sang.

"_To the little bells soft as a psalm," _the other sang, his tan skin almost glowing in the golden sun.

The three stepped on so they were lined up and all sang, _"And some say the soul of the city's the tolls of the bells…The bells of Notre Dame."_

The children giggled as the two men who were standing at the front of the stage raised their heads, revealing them to be twins, and began to dance and then fall to sit on the front of the stage, listening in eagerly as if they were also a part of the crowd.

The tan skinned one knelt down beside the two boys and tilted his head to the side to catch the sound of the bells as they rang once again. "You hear that?" The man spoke in French but his accent was not native. "They are beautiful, si?" He smiled at one of the twins and winked.

The man chuckled and stood up, standing in front of his two friends on stage. "So many colors of sound, so many changing moods." He sighed in a poetic fashion. The children erupted in fits of giggles as the blonde swooned and fell into the awaiting arms of the silver-haired man.

The tan one did not take notice of this and continued, addressing the twins sitting on the stage. "But you know that they do not toll on their own?"

"Ve~? They don't?" he asked curiously, leaning in with interest, his curl bobbing with every movement he made.

The tanned man chuckled. "Of course not, mon ami!" The man stretched his arms out wide and high. "Up there in the mysterious bell tower lives a man who rings the bells with a face unlike our own!"

The twins rose from the stage. The one with darker hair spoke, addressing the children. "Who is this man?" he asked.

"Who?" his twin echoed, bouncing around.

"What is he?"

"What?" came the echo.

"How did he come to be here?"

"How?" the chipper voice followed.

The children laughed at the agitated expression on the older twin's face and hit his twin lightly. "Hush and I will tell you," he said, expressing his annoyance.

The younger twin whined, his curl falling limp, expressing his emotions. "I'm sorry," he said."

The white-haired man took a step forward and the story's atmosphere suddenly became creepier. "Allow me to continue from here," he said, speaking in low tone. "It's a tale of a man…a man, and a monster."

* * *

A small rowboat sailed down the cold river, carrying four shadowy figures cloaked in darkness, a small bundle in a woman's arms. She rocked the bundle soothingly, whispering sweet nothings to hush the crying that came from it, holding it close to her chest, as close as the snow was hugging the banks of the river.

"_Dark was the night when our tale was begun, near the docks of Notre Dame."_

One of the figures wrapped strong arms around the woman and held her and his child close, hoping to ease the crying.

The other passenger with them that was rowing the boat was sweating bullets the more the baby cried.

"Shut that thing up already!" the man whispered harshly.

The father sent a harsh glare the man's way but his wife took no notice and continued to rock her child, his crying slowly ceasing until it became nonexistent. "Thank you, my love," she said gratefully to her child.

"_Four frightened gypsies slid silently under the docks on Notre Dame."_

The rower stopped at the destined dock where they had agreed to be taken. They carefully got out of the boat, their boot covered feet crunching into the snow. The mother held her child close to keep him warm, her hood still drawn tight over her head so her face was barely visible.

"We must hurry," her husband warned, beginning to drag her away. But then an arrow flew past them and sunk itself into the chest of the man who had taken them there.

"_But a trapped had been laid for the gypsies, and they gazed up in fear and alarm, at a figure whose clutches were iron as the bells…"_

The parents stood in shock as the body of their friend fell. They looked up and saw a group of soldiers, all with their arrows positioned, ready to fire, and behind the small fleet directing them was none other than…

"Lord Ivan Braginski," the man said, the name like venom on his lips.

The tall man smiled, but his eyes glowed with anger and resentment.

"_The bells of Notre Dame."_

"_Ivan Braginski longed to purge the world of sin and vice."_

The man spurred his white horse to a walk to approach the small group, towering above them menacingly, still smiling his shark smile as the gypsy man was put in chains and was separated from his wife.

"_And he saw corruption everywhere, except within…"_

"Take them to the palace of justice, da?" Ivan asked, though it was more a command by his harsh undertones than a suggestion.

The guards began to push the woman along to put her in a prison cart when they finally noticed the bundle she had been protectively clutching to her chest.

"What are you hiding?" the guard spit out, shoving her harshly.

Ivan overheard this and his eyes glazed over with bitter feelings towards the street rat. "Stolen good," he deducted. "Take them from her and give them to me."

"_She ran."_

The woman gasped and broke free from the guard's grasp and took off in a run, her long cloak tangling up in her legs and her feet slipping, but never faltering, on the snow. She ran through the streets, going down directions that would be hard for anyone to follow, knowing exactly where she was going.

She heard the sound of the clopping of hooves and that spurred her legs into a faster run, holding the bundle close to her chest, feeling the warm tears rush down her frozen face, blurring her vision.

Her legs could only do so much against the speed of a horse but she was close to Notre Dame where she would be safe. She stumbled up the frozen steps, nearly falling, and fell against the thick doors of Notre Dame. She huffed for breath but allowed no moment of relief until she was inside those doors.

She began to pound on the doors, hoping to awake the priest, crying out despairingly, "Sanctuary! Sanctuary! Please give us sanctuary!" She sobbed, her whole body shaking as she pounded on the doors until her hands were bruised and bleeding.

She turned and saw Ivan coming down the desolated street on his horse and the tears rushed down faster as she began to ran again. But Ivan had jumped off his horse and had grabbed the woman by the shoulders and began to struggle as they fought over the bundle in her arms.

He gained the upper hand, snatching the bundle from her hands and pushing her down the steps. She let out a voiceless scream as the back of her neck hit the edge of the step and she died.

Ivan huffed for breath, not quite realizing what he had done yet, too satisfied with having won this little game of chase. It was then he noticed the noise that was coming from the bundle in his arms. Crying?

He looked down and saw something squirming beneath the blanket, the crying muffled by the warm fabric. "A baby?" he questioned, lifting the flap that had fallen over the child's face and gasped, nearly dropping the child right there.

He was so different. He had never seen a child like this before. A beautiful face, but it was not right. It was unnatural to have an appearance so different. It was the face of a demon. A demon shouldn't be allowed to walk this Earth, let alone his dear streets of Paris that he had worked so hard to rid of anything unnatural.

He looked around frantically, searching for a way to dispose of the thing and spotted a well. Perfect. He walked up to the well, gently holding the child to him and then lifting him up above his head and over the well, the baby's cries mixing in with the howling winds that spoke their disapproval.

"'_Stop!' cried the Archdeacon."_

Ivan looked up, lowering the child back down to his chest as he noticed the kindly priest step out from the church doors, his white robes fluttering in the wind and his dark brown curls streaked with gray unruly and mussed.

Ivan took a step away from the well and bowed to the priest. "Archdeacon Roma," he said in respect. "I was doing the work of the Lord, for you see, this is an unholy demon and must return to the hell from which it had come."

Roma frowned and took a step closer to Ivan, also taking notice of the poor woman lying dead on the steps of the righteous Notre Dame. He shook his head as he felt his heart break.

"_See there the innocent blood you have spilt on the steps of Notre Dame."_

It was then that Ivan finally seemed to realize what he had done. He looked on at the dead woman lying there, the snow falling gently on her pale skin and he saw the gypsy woman had a similar face to that of the child. He gulped but kept a straight face at the priest. "I am guiltless. She ran, I pursued; if she wasn't guilty of something she never would have run from me."

Roma ignored the man's fruitless words as he picked up the woman who he only presumed was the child's mother. He uttered a soft, quick prayer and looked on sadly at Ivan. _"Now you add this child's blood to your guilt on the steps of Notre Dame."_

Ivan shook his head, that familiar insanity beginning to creep into his eyes as what he was doing suddenly pressed in on his soul. "My conscious is clear."

Roma shook his head again and spoke harshly, _"You can lie to yourself and your minions, you can claim that you haven't a qualm, but you never can run from nor hide what you've done from the eyes…The very eyes of Notre Dame."_

Ivan took deep shallow breaths as he felt the weight of the saints stares press down on him. He took step after step forward, closer to Archdeacon Roma and fell to his knees on the steps, trying to fight off the insanity that was claiming him.

"_And for one time in his life of power and control…Ivan felt a twinge of fear for his immortal soul."_

"What must I do?" he asked helplessly, his head falling forward.

Roma stared down at the guilty man with raised eyebrows. How strange this man was. He turned fully towards the man, the dead woman still in his arms and spoke softly, "Care for the child." He looked down at the dead woman who was supposed to care for her child and nurture him, but that life was stolen from both the mother and the child, and it was now Ivan's responsibility to take on what he had stolen. "Care for him as your own."

Ivan raised his head at this, his mouth agape. "What? Be burdened by this…?" He didn't finish his sentence, the stern gaze of the priest, like an offending angel, staring down at him. Ivan sighed and rose to his feet. "Alright then, he will live here, in this church."

Roma was taken aback by this and gasped. "Live here? Where?"

Ivan looked down at the child, staring upon his strange face. "In the bell tower perhaps?"

Roma was about to object but then Ivan quickly spoke up, his chilling smile that was colder than the winter air returning. "You never know, Archdeacon. Our Lord works in mysterious ways."

"_Even this strange creature may yet prove one day to be of use to me."_

Roma stood there in shock for a moment and then lowered his head. This is not what he had expected. "Very well."

* * *

The children had listened attentively during the whole story, some shuddering and others having begun to cry and had been dragged away by their parents.

The twins at the front of the stage had been reenacting as much of the story as they could in a form of dance.

The blonde took a step forward and took over the story. "And Ivan saw that the name embroidered on the blanket he was wrapped in that night was Kiku. Kiku grew up in the bell tower, all alone, for all of his life with no other company besides Ivan himself and the bells."

"_Now here is the riddle to guess if you can. Sing the bells of Notre Dame."_

The twins joined the trio on stage and they all lined up, surrounding the blond.

"_Who is the monster and who is the man?" _

As if on cue, the bells above them rang once more, startling the children and snapping them out of their daze that had fallen over them while listening to the story.

"_Sing the bells, bells, bells, bells."_

"_Bells, bells, bells, bells!"_

"_Bells of Notre Dame!"_

-/-

**Ranko: And that is it for the first chapter! I think I will really like this story, just because everything seems to be falling into place so perfectly. I hope that you enjoy reading it as much as I love writing it! **

**And the characters too! Now, I just want to clear up that I don't hate Ivan, in fact, I love him! He's one of my favorite characters! But him as the evil Frollo was too good of an opportunity to pass up. (fangirl squeal) I mean, I love how Russia has that scary-calm, dangerously insane thing about him. **

**And Kiku as the hunchback? While he's not misshapen, his Asian features were found to be very disturbing during this time in Europe because it was something no one had ever seen before and they are not used to that kind of appearance.**

**So, enough of my blabbering! Review and I will see you all next chapter!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Ranko: So, I am super excited about this story and I just want to give a huge thanks for everyone who has reviewed, favorited, followed, or read this humble story of mine!**

**OfZombiesAndMonsters:**** You ask and you receive ; ) Thank you very much, kind person!**

**mimi-chan and ailing-chan:**** ^^ I usually post chapters weekly but since its my summer and I have nothing to do, the updates will probably be more frequent. There are pairings, in fact! The main is USUK, there is one-sided AsaKiku, and I really weird, insane one-sided RusEng OwO And a bit of side-pairings, not exactly sure who though. Thank you very much for the review! ^^**

**Disclaimer: Hetalia nor The Hunchback of Notre Dame belong to me. The characters, story, and property belongs to their respected owners/creators. This is a nonprofitable story!**

**Enjoy!**

**-/-**

**A slim figure walked across the beams of the ceiling, carefully maintaining his balance as the bells chimed around him. He looked weak by his small frame but he was indeed very strong. He jumped from beam to beam with practiced eased, a certain familiarity in his movements. **

**He walked out to one of the many balconies of Notre Dame and the fresh morning air immediately hit his face, the wind mussing his short, cropped black hair. He closed his eyes and smiled in contentment, flinging him arms out like he could fly. He opened his beautiful, chocolate colored eyes and stared out over the fair city of Paris. **

**Kiku, the mysterious bell ringer of Notre Dame, had been confined to the bell tower all twenty years of his life. His guardian, Ivan, told him that he was to stay here for his own good, or else people will shun him. Kiku sighed as he looked down at the streets below, making out faces of familiar people, and then touching his own face. **

**He was different than everyone else. No one else he had ever seen had a face like his. His eyes were slanted and his cheekbones were much sharper. He was hideous and different and no one would ever understand why, everyone would shun him and curse him, except for his dear friend Ivan, who was the only one who accepted him. **

**A familiar chirping snapped him out of his thoughts and he turned in surprise to see a small baby bird that was perched on the railing he was leaning against. Kiku smiled softly. He had found this bird one morning on the balcony with a broken wing. He had nursed the poor thing back to help and he had grown a strange attachment with the bird. **

**He scooped the yellow bird up in his hands and held it up to his face. **

**"Good morning," he said in a voice that was just as melodic as the bells he rang. **

**The bird chirped in response, as if he could really understand Kiku. **

**Kiku laughed softly. "How are you feeling today? Does your wing feel any better?"**

**As if in response to Kiku's question, the bird chirped again. He hopped around in the boy's hands and then spread his wing, flapping and circling around Kiku's head. **

**Kiku laughed again, much more gleeful though. "I'm so happy for you!" he said, feeling his heart flutter like the bird's wings. "That means you can go find your family."**

**The bird suddenly fell back in Kiku's head and chirped again; it sounded much more distraught though, as if the bird was saying, "I want to stay with you though." **

**Kiku smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Don't worry about me, little thing. No one deserves to be stuck up here forever." He held out his arms, the bird still in his palms, to help him take off. "Go find your family."**

**The bird looked back at Kiku and silently stared at him, and Kiku couldn't help but feel that the bird was giving him pity. But he wasn't allowed too much time to think that over before the bird took off, flying over the streets of Paris. **

**Kiku smiled fondly as he watched his little friend begin to fade from sight; he waved the bird goodbye, but then his hand fell limp by his side as he went back to staring down at the streets where tents and booths and decorations were being set up for the Festival of Fools that day. It was the only time each year that Kiku felt a connection with those that resided below him. How he wished that he could join them. **

**If only he could spread his wings and take off as well, escaping his imprisonment. But Kiku wouldn't know what to do; he had never lived on his own and he would always fear what people would think of him. **

**All his life, the only human contact he had was with Ivan, who he owed his life to. He found him on a cold winter night after he was abandoned by his mother. He taught him that he was supposed to hide, never to show his face, lest he be tormented by those who might hate him because he was different. **

**Although, sometimes Kiku wished that he did have some company; he sometimes spoke to the gargoyles, as if they were real people and conveyed his troubles and thoughts to them. **

**Kiku sighed and walked back inside the church, the old wood creaking under his feet. He walked up the steps to the little secret compartment where he lived. Before he was taken in by Ivan, it used to be used as storage space. That was evident by all the old statues and broken blanks and pillars that were strewn around. **

**But this is where he lived, and he made the best of it. It was always small in space, but he made it work. **

**His secret treasure was up here as well. **

**He only had one table, and mostly all of it, except a small corner of it, was taken up by a model of the town square, decorated with little carved figurines of the residents of the city. He slumped in his chair and picked up his own figure that he made of himself and fiddled with it in his hands, putting it town to mingle with the other figurines. **

**He smiled as he spoke for the figurines, moving them about. **

**"Good morning, Baker," he said, putting his figure next to the baker. "How are you doing on this lovely morning?"**

**He moved his figure to the performing trio that he loved to watch every morning and afternoon. "Why, if it isn't Francis, Antonia, and Gilbert! Up to trouble again, I see."**

**He chuckled as he thought of how wonderful it would be to meet those three. He sobered and deflated when he realized that he never would. They would never accept him, even if they were gypsies, even that group had their standards. **

**Kiku sighed and let his head fall on the table. "If only I could actually fit in down there," he said as if he had someone else wish him he was speaking with. He raised his head and slammed his fists on the table weakly. "Besides, Ivan would never let me go in the first place." He let his head fall in his hands. "I can ****_never_**** leave this tower."**

**"Kiku?"**

**Kiku gasped, raising his head and turned around to see Ivan standing behind him in his official robes, that constant smile on his face with a basket of food in his hands. Kiku returned the smile, although hesitantly; how long had Ivan been standing there? And why hadn't he noticed?**

**"Good morning, sir," he said, standing up and bowing in respect, as he did every morning. **

**He heard Ivan approach him; with his head still bowed he saw the man's feet appear in his field of vision. He felt a gentle hand rest on his shoulder, giving him permission to raise his head. "Whoever were you talking to?" Ivan asked curiously as he walked over to the table where Kiku just was and took a seat. **

**"No one, sir," Kiku said, walking over to stand beside Ivan. **

**Ivan chuckled. "You know, Kiku, if you keep talking to yourself like that, some might think you're insane." He pulled out plates and cups from the basket and put it on the table corner, gesturing for Kiku to sit, Kiku did so quickly as Ivan poured wine into their cups. **

**"Shall we review your alphabet today then?" Ivan asked, pulling out a leather bound book and opening it, giving Kiku a friendly smile. **

**"Yes, sir, I would love to," Kiku said. **

**Ivan nodded and looked back down at the book. "A?"**

**"Abomination."**

**"B?"**

**"Blasphemy?"**

**Ivan nodded. "C?"**

**"Contrition."**

**"D?"**

**Kiku paused. "Damnation…"**

**Ivan noticed the pause but did not stop. **

**"E?"**

**"Eternal damnation?"**

**"F."**

**"Festival," Kiku said with a dreamy tone. Ivan, who had been taking a sip of his wine, inhaled it and began to choke, coughing and pounding at his chest. Kiku gasped and quickly stood up, rushing over to Ivan's side and patting his back gently. "Please forgive me, I did not mean to startle you."**

**As Ivan's coughing fit calmed down, Kiku began to move from his side, but Ivan quickly grabbed his thin wrist in his hand and held it tightly until Kiku was sure that there would be bruises there. "You said the word…festival." Ivan slowly rose up and he towered above Kiku like a giant. Kiku began shaking; he feared Ivan whenever he got like this and he began stuttering out apologies but Ivan didn't seem to be listening. "You were thinking of going to the festival, weren't you?"**

**"No!" Kiku said in a shaky voice. "I mean…yes…I mean, uh…!" Kiku grabbed his hair with his free hand and tugged at it. "You just go every year, and I was thinking that maybe…"**

**Ivan released Kiku's wrist and Kiku was right, there were bruises. Ivan did not let Kiku go far though, backing the poor boy up against the wall. "I am a public official, which means I must go, but believe me, I never enjoy a moment of it." Ivan scowled and shivered in disgust at the very thought of having to attend the Feast of Fools later in the afternoon. **

**Kiku adverted his eyes from Ivan's as the taller man's gaze finally landed on him, studying his face with care, the same face that he stared at with disgust for the past twenty years. **

**"I apologize…" Kiku said softly. "I did not mean to upset you." **

**Ivan sighed and when Kiku looked up, Ivan's face had softened, staring down at Kiku no longer with disgust, but a comforting smile. The sudden change of moods that Ivan displayed never ceased to surprise the younger boy. Ivan rested a scarred, calloused hand on Kiku's cheek and stroked the boy's cheek bone; Kiku tried to repress a shiver. **

**"Don't you understand, Kiku?" Ivan asked carefully, with a tinge of sympathy in his tone. "When your heartless mother abandoned you, any other person would have left you in the snow to ****_die_****."**

**Kiku shuddered and quickly looked down at a torn curtain that was draped across a broken beam, it suddenly becoming the most interesting thing in the world to him. **

**Ivan didn't like it when Kiku didn't maintain eye contact. He moved his hand down the boy's neck until it landed on his shoulder and he squeezed. Kiku gasped silently, his eyes quickly darting back to Ivan's; the man was smiling but his eyes told him something different completely. **

**"And this is my thanks for taking you in as my own and raising you from infancy?" Ivan asked, his words as sharp as his eyes. **

**Kiku gulped; he wanted to look away from the pressing gaze, but he didn't want Ivan to give him any more bruises today than he already had. "Yes, Lord Ivan, I'm sorry," he said in a small voice. **

**Ivan smiled and slowly released his group on the boy's delicate shoulder. He rested his hand on his back and guided him over to the balcony to overlook the preparing festivities going on below. **

"Oh, my poor innocent Kiku," Ivan said in a soft voice, smiling gently down at the boy. "You don't know what it's like out there." Ivan's hand moved to Kiku's head, giving it a small pat. "But I do."

Ivan's eyes darkened as he stared down at Kiku's dejectedness, a slight smile playing on his lips. _"The world is cruel."_

"_The world is wicked." _

Ivan suddenly turned Kiku around and grabbed his shoulders roughly, bringing him closer until they were nearly nose to nose. Kiku feared when Ivan had that certain gleam in his eyes as he did now.

"_It's I along whom you can trust in this whole city. I am your only friend."_

He grabbed Kiku's arm and began pacing around the room with him.

"_I who keep you, feed you, teach you, dress you. I who look upon you without fear."_

Ivan walked over to the diorama of the town square that Kiku had put together and took the figurine of Kiku that was on the ground among the other villagers.

Ivan turned towards Kiku with a scowl. _"How can I protect you, boy, unless you always stay in here." _Ivan placed Kiku's figurine gently on a perch of Notre Dame. _"Away in here."_

Ivan paced away from Kiku, and Kiku followed expectantly after him, never been having been taught differently all his life. "Remember what I taught you, Kiku," Ivan said with a satisfied smile.

"_You are deformed."_

Kiku closed his eyes against the words but softly uttered back, _"I am deformed." _

"_And you are ugly."_

"_And I am ugly." _

"_And these are crimes for which the world shows little pity!" _Ivan was suddenly shouting, pushing Kiku back into a corner slowly, placing both hand on either side of Kiku's head, trapping him. _"You do not comprehend."_

"_You are my one defender,"_ Kiku repeated like it was all a well-rehearsed script.

"_Out there they'll revile you as a monster."_

Kiku bit the inside of his cheeks. _"I am a monster." _

Ivan smiled, bringing on hand up and resting in delicately on Kiku's cheek. _"Out there they will hate and scorn and jeer." _

"_Only a monster…"_

Ivan smiled; the boy was easy to break.

Ivan slowly backed away, holding out a hand to Kiku. _"Why invite their calumny and consternation? Stay in here, be faithful."_

Kiku took a step forward, reaching out a hand, a dazed over look in his eyes. _"I'm faithful."_

"_Grateful to me."_

Kiku grasped Ivan's hand and brought it to his chest, bowing his head. _"I'm grateful." _

Ivan put a warm, loving arm around Kiku and brought him closer. _"Do as I say, obey. And stay in here."_

"_I'll stay in here."_

Ivan smiled and released Kiku walking past him without a second thought, feeling satisfied as Kiku said softly to him as he passed. "Thank you, Ivan; I am grateful." Kiku sighed and lowered his head, finally bowing fully. "I apologize."

Ivan stopped short at the stairs; Kiku couldn't see the psychotic gleam in the man's eyes. He had worked hard to break the boy of all faith and hope; he always wanted Kiku to rely on him and only him, never knowing better. He would not let his hard work go to waste, going to extreme lengths and measures to make sure that the loveless boy remained oblivious. Even if it meant giving him his own love…

Ivan shook his head and cleared his throat. Looking over his shoulder, he smiled softly at Kiku as the boy waited patiently before rising from the bow. "You are forgiven. You may rise." Kiku did as he was told. "Good," Ivan said, his eyes almost glowing with glee. "But remember Kiku, this…" Ivan gestured to the construction around them. "Is your sanctuary." Ivan's smile stretched wider to a sadistic grin before he vanished down the steps.

Once Ivan was out of sight, Kiku released the breath he felt like he had been holding since Ivan first arrived.

He went back to his table and sat there, his head falling on the soft wood. He slowly raised his head, as if that alone took too much effort and stared up at the bells above him.

"_Safe behind these windows and these parapets of stone…"_ Kiku shook his head at those words that had been drilled into his head for as long as he could remember. He looked down at his carvings and smiled softly, feeling warm and light. _"Gazing at the people down below me."_

Kiku grabbed his figurine and placed it back among the towns people. _"All my life I watch them as I hide up here alone, hungry for the histories they show me." _

Kiku rose and walked past his table to his balcony. _"All my life I memorize their faces, knowing them as they will never know me."_ He looked down at the activity going on down below with a sinking feeling in his heart. _"All my life I wonder how it feels to pass a day. Not above them…but part of them!"_

Kiku suddenly smiled brightly at the thought, encouraging him to take that step forward.

"_And out there, living in the sun! Give me one day out there!"_

He jumped down and clutched onto a column sliding down it with years of practice and leaning out over the edge, feeling the wind blow through his hair and the sun gently kiss his pale skin.

"_All I ask is one! To hold forever."_

"_Out there, where they all live unaware!"_

Kiku walked across the beaming, holding from column to column of the church.

"_What'd I'd give…What'd I'd dare!"_

Kiku stared out over the tops of buildings where he sometimes felt like he could see all of Paris. See, but never be.

"_Just to live one day out there!"_

"_Out there among the millers and the weavers and their wives, through the roofs and gables I can see them! Everyday they shout and scold and go about their lives, heedless of the gift it is to be them."_

Kiku, feeling daring, jumped from his perch and balanced himself as he skied himself down the water pipes that led to the gargoyles.

"_If I was in their skin, I'd treasure every instant!"_

Before he could fall, he grabbed on to two columns and stood there, feeling the cool water under his feet, closing his eyes and imagining he was someplace different.

"_Out there, strolling by the Seine."_

He filled his hands with water and splashed his face, hoping and longing for the feeling of being somewhere new where he wasn't confined to one place for twenty years.

"_Taste a morning out there, like ordinary men." _Kiku reached out his hand longingly, as if he could grasp a better future in his hands.

"_Who walk freely about there. Just one day and then…"_

Kiku jumped down one more level, smiling at the thrill of a fall and landed gracefully on the railing below him.

"_With my share. Won't resent. Won't despair. Old and bent, I won't care!"_

Kiku dashed across the railing, seeing the edge getting closer and jumping, landing on the roof and sliding down it, much closer to the ground than he ever had been before.

"_I'll have spent one day out there!"_

-/-

**Ranko: What can I say, I'm a bit rusty, I hoped you liked it anyway! ^^**


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